And It All Stopped
by That Creative One
Summary: She was nothing to him. A street rat standing next to an angel. Years and years of Eponine practically giving her heart to Marius- it meant nothing at all. After all, she's just a shadow. She had no chance at all. He never saw her there. (Came up with this after I got in a big fight with one of my friends. T/W: blood, attempted suicide. But nothing that horrible. T to be safe.)


While she watched Marius and Cosette sing together as if they had done it a million times, there had been a sick feeling growing in the pit of Eponine's stomach. Now as she rushed through the dark streets of Paris back to her father's inn, she was choking back tears. Eponine stumbled through the old wooden door and dashed up the flight of stairs to her room, ignoring the many confused, concerned glances she got from people dining in the inn.

Eponine actually managed to keep from crying until she reached the door, when tears started stinging her eyes. After she slammed the door with more force than necessary, it hit her. The dread she'd been feeling ever since she saw Cosette. Eponine had loved Marius for years, been his shadow practically. Did he notice her uncovered love? Of course not. And now Cosette came into the equation. If Eponine had any chance at all with Marius, it was gone now.

Hot, heavy tears coursed down Eponine's face. Years and years of sadness and loneliness suddenly came out of her as she slid down the wall she had her back against. Eponine, who had not shed a tear in years, was suddenly sobbing her heart out.

After what seemed like an eternity of crying, Eponine could do nothing but curl up in a ball and mourn what could have been. _No, _Eponine though. _It never could have been. You're his shadow. He never saw you. You're a filthy street rat standing next to a rich little angel. You had no chance at all. _

Eponine closed her bloodshot eyes and thought of all the days she had come to the Café Musain in Marius's wake to listen to his friends talk of a better world. All that seemed pointless now.

A wave of terrible grief and dismay washed over Eponine, making her feel sick to her stomach. All the years she had spent with Marius- years, _years- _they meant nothing at all. A sour taste touched the back of Eponine's throat as she realized something. This was her life. She was always going to be a shadow, no matter where she was. She would never find love. And Marius would never see her.

Eponine shakily stood back up and walked over to her small window. With a scream of rage and sorrow, Eponine slammed her fist into the glass; feeling satisfied when there was a loud _crack _and a sharp stinging pain in her hand. Over and over, Eponine relished the pain until her knuckles were crimson with her own blood and the window had shattered. She groped for a large enough shard and raised one suitable for her purposes. A 5-inch long razor sharp piece of jagged glass was raised just above Eponine's wrist, and she fully intended to bring it down.

Just as Eponine was about to slice her wrist with the makeshift knife, she dropped it to the ground. She couldn't do this. No, she couldn't. She was too scared. Scared of what might happen. Only then Eponine realized there was a horrible pain burning in her hand and she saw her hand bleeding where she had punched the window. Horror washed over Eponine as she realized what she had been about to do and she stumbled back into her corner, as far away from the window as she could get in the tiny room.

Choking, Eponine gave a dry sob, but no tears came. Waves of loss, grief, sorrow, and cold hatred for the life she was living hit her like punches in her stomach. _He never saw you there. You are nothing to him. He knew nothing of you but that girl who followed him around. He never saw you there, _Eponine thought over and over.

Then it was gone. Everything. An eerie silence filled the room as a hollowness descended on Eponine. Silently, she was forming a plan. Tomorrow was Lamarque's funeral. Marius's friends- the revolutionaries- were planning to rally the people that day. She would disguise herself as one of them, Eponine decided, and fight with them. Her life here now was nothing at all. Tomorrow, whether she died or not, she would be in a better place. Better off than the pain, sorrow-filled excuse of a life she was leading now.

And she would never shed another tear for the boy who never saw her there.

END

Soo…yeah. I just got in a huge fight with a friend and I'm kinda depressed about it. So…please review.


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